


Every Which Way

by Velace



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Explicit Language, F/F, Fluff, Humour, Idiots in Love, Shameless Smut, Trapped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2018-10-17 14:42:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10596129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velace/pseuds/Velace
Summary: Emma and Regina are in love, but neither of them will admit it. Snow isn't having any of it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know I distorted canon a bit in regards to the timeline of events. It's on purpose.

Emma sighs for who knows how many times its been now. Regina thinks if she hears one more sound, one more sigh, one more groan, one more huff, she's going to do something. She's going to get up, walk over to Emma's desk, circle around her and then slap her around the head… probably.

She gets it; Emma is bored. If she's being honest, she's bored too but is she sitting here making annoying sounds every half a minute? No, she's simply trying to convince herself not to march over there and attack Emma…

With her mouth, mostly.

To shut her up, obviously.

Only… well. It isn't the first time she's thought about it. Really, she's probably well over the hundredth time at this point but right now, Emma is _annoying_ and instead of giving in to her usual crippling lust, it'd be because she's losing her mind and it's better than outright murdering the mother of her son like a certain part of her entertained about fifteen minutes ago for, maybe, five seconds at most.

She can't kill Emma. It would be a loss, not only to their son and her, but to the world at large. She's hopelessly in love with the idiot, for some reason. No, she'll just kill Snow White when they get out of this new predicament of theirs. She'll have to lecture the simpleton first, of course, because as everyone knows not even death will rid her of Snow White. Charming will probably go all "I will find you" and then the next thing you know, Snow White will rise from the Underworld and return to being even more annoying than her daughter.

Regina sighs. Yes, she's a hypocrite, she knows. Bored as she is though, her sighing is more a result of frustration, both in the general sense and… not.

If this were a movie— granted, it would have to be R rated and showing late night on HBO, but a movie nonetheless— she'd already be undressed and underneath the Sheriff by now. She isn't stupid, or blind, or unaffected by the way Emma stares at her sometimes.

Actually, now that she's thinking about it; that sometimes should probably be upgraded to almost all the time. The only time Emma isn't giving her certain looks is when she's distracted by their son, or food. Not even her parents, as revolting as they are, can generally get Emma's attention away from her.

It's flattering. A little annoying too, but arousing. Thrilling.

She shivers just thinking about the last time she caught Emma gazing at her from beneath hooded lids, that dopey lop-sided grin on her face because she thinks she's being at all subtle.

How, Regina has no idea. Emma is about as subtle as a car through a plate-glass window, but she humors her and her delusions all the same.

Hearing another sigh, she rolls her eyes.

"Emma," she says, not looking up from the book she's been pretending to read for the better part of the last hour. "Do be a dear and shut up."

"I'm bored," Emma whines, flinging something across the room at her.

Glancing down, she sees that it’s a pen just as it rolls beneath her chair, and raises a brow as she meets the blonde's gaze. Emma bites her lower lip, attempting to stifle that dopey grin, no doubt.

"Really?" Regina drawls sarcastically, "I hadn't noticed."

Conjuring the pen to hand, she quickly flings it back and smirks as it strikes the bridge of Emma's nose. Emma stares, brow furrowing before she lifts her hand and rubs at the spot. "Ow." She pouts. "You're mean."

Sniffing, Regina returns to pretending to read and says, "Remind your mother of that next time she tries to meddle in my affairs."

"She was only trying to help."

"I don't care," she murmurs. To keep up appearances, she flips a page and continues, "She needs to stop sticking her nose where it doesn't belong. We will sort out issues when we decide to, and not before."

Emma huffs. "I don't have issues."

Regina smiles secretly, having heard _that_ one before. "Oh please, you could start your own magazine subscription," she counters. "You're still busy moping about the pirate, I get it, trapping us here to talk about our _feelings_ wasn't necessary." She looks up and adds, smirking, "You're an idiot; the fact was established long before your mother realized it."

After an embarrassing couple of minutes sputtering at her desk, Emma suddenly stands up, crossing the room to where she sits in only a few short steps. " _I'm_ the one moping?" She hisses, hands on the desk as she leans over it. " _You're_ the one who walks around fake smiling at everyone and pretending that everything's a-ok when we all know you're full of shit."

Head shaking, Regina closes her book and places it on the desk. Rising, she mirrors Emma's pose and leans in even closer. "I fake smile because the alternative is strangling everyone who asks me how I'm doing," she growls. She's in love with an idiot and the entire town is worried about her because her soul mate left, with his wife, like she damn well told him to. "Unlike you heroes, when I say something, I _mean_ it; fate can kiss my ass."

Emma was with Killian. She'd seen Robin's tattoo and got swept away briefly in the moment. She isn't heart broken because he left. She's heart broken because the woman she loves is a _dumbass_.

Straightening, she sniffs at Emma's wide-eyed stare and feigns fixing a crease in her shirt as she says, "But no need to worry, dear. As soon as this spell breaks and I'm free, the smile I give your mother when my hands are around her throat will be the most genuine thing you've ever seen."

Emma groans as she flops down in the nearest chair. "You can't kill my mother, Regina."

"If you'd told me that before this morning, I'd have agreed with you." She'd had more than three decades to do it and hadn't, after all.

"You _won't_ kill my mother, Regina."

"Won't I?" Emma shakes her head. "And why is that?"

"Because you love her. Because you love our son and he loves his grandmother." The first is extremely debatable, but the second is not. Regina merely stares at her. "Because you love me?"

She hums, her frustration dimming to a low simmer as she returns to her seat. Emma looks too hopeful for her to shatter _that_ argument. Besides, bored or not, she has no intention of spending the next forty-however-many-hours-are-left being snubbed by Emma because she refused to back down.

"You should be more careful with your words, dear." Tell her she _can't_ do something. Just because she never particularly _wanted_ to, doesn't mean she couldn't.

"Uh huh."

Having decided the top of the desk safer to stare at rather than Emma herself, the casual, dismissive mutter has her gaze snapping up. She inwardly groans when met with that hooded stare. She's never wanted to scream at anyone more than she does at Emma.

They have plenty of time to spare. If Emma wants her as much as that gaze implies, then she needed to come right out and _say it_ already. Hell, she didn't even need to say it. If Emma got up right this second, yanked her from the chair and started undressing her, she wouldn't even question it.

With a grimace, she stands, putting distance between them as she moves to the small kitchenette in the corner. This is why trapping them in the same building together is a terrible idea. Too much time spent in Emma Swan's vicinity turns her into a sex-starved lunatic.

She won't kill Snow White, but oh is she going to make the woman suffer for putting her through this.

"Coffee?" she offers over a shoulder.

"No." Startled by how close Emma sounds, she turns abruptly to find her leaning back against the counter. Emma grins knowingly. "You keep running from me."

"No I don't," she argues instantly. She does. When this all started, she was in Emma's office. She moved into the main office because she'd been having very vivid fantasies of Emma bending her over her desk. It made it hard to breath.

Pushing from the counter, Emma stalks closer. "Yes, you do," she counters. "I'm not stupid, Regina."

She tries not to snort, but really, how can she be expected to believe that? Emma thinks they're _friends_ after all this time.

Head shaking, she turns her attention back to the coffeemaker.

"Regina."

Her eyes flutter to match the feeling in her stomach. That _tone_. Gods, she might just kill Emma Swan after all.

 

.

.

.

 

Seeing the way Regina's body reacts to her voice, Emma grins to herself. At any other time, she'd have been offended by that snort but in this instance, Regina would be correct for someone on the outside looking in. It is impossible for Regina to know what she's thinking, to know that in actuality, she is more than aware of this thing between them and has, until minutes earlier, chosen to ignore it as best as her ability to do so had allowed.

Now that they're trapped together, though, with no where to go but another room in which the other would eventually wander into because they are, and have always been, incapable of staying away from each other for too long— what choice does she have _but_ to acknowledge it?

Already her fingers itch to reach for that fourth button, to peel the burgundy blouse from Regina's frame to get to the black lace beneath. Her mouth had watered at the thought she'd had previously of getting her mouth on all that flesh Regina shows off on a daily basis, and continues to water as she considers all that _other_ flesh she could have her mouth on.

She isn't stupid, no, and she definitely isn't blind. She knows, deep down, that if she reached for her this very second and did all the things she's no longer denying herself the pleasure of considering, Regina wouldn't stop her. Regina would welcome her, perhaps even beg for her mouth as she threads a hand through her hair and guides her toward that beautiful chest.

It is that knowing that has her stepping forward, hands gliding across hips as a sharp inhale fills the surrounding air. "Regina," she repeats, purposely low, feeling rather than simply seeing the shudder the older woman gives.

As her arms slide around a slim waist and she presses up against the stiff back, she smiles at the strangled sound that escapes from dark, plump lips. She's tired of pretending, of controlling herself.

"Do you still think me stupid?" she purrs as inch by painstaking inch, she coaxes the blouse from the waistband of form-fitting slacks.

A chuckle, throaty and deep is answer enough but Regina wouldn't be Regina if she didn't then confirm what it implies. "Yes," she says, a smirk in her voice. Emma growls playfully and nips the lobe of her ear before she can second guess herself.

Another shudder ripples through the body in her arms and her own spine shivers with the moan that follows it.

Regina wants this. She wants this. What could possibly be more important than either of those things?

She concedes, "I suppose you're right," grinning as she slips beneath the blouse and molds fingers to stomach. "If I were smart," she adds, lips brushing along that same lobe, "I'd have _taken_ you the night we met."

"Yes," Regina murmurs, caressing her arms. She turns her head, presses it to Emma's temple. Emma can feel her smile. "You drive me crazy."

Emma nods slowly, contritely. She hadn't meant to. Killian left for this very reason. She'd told him the truth and he'd just… vanished without word. She did mope, for at least a day. She didn't love him, but she'd thought they could maybe be friends at least. She should have known better, but then, Snow White is her mother; the embodiment of hope and wishful thinking.

Ah well.

These past months, since the men they were supposed to love up and went, she'd continued moping. How was she meant to tell Regina? Like this seemed too easy. She'd never considered simply walking up to her and putting it all on the line. She didn't fear rejection, she feared happiness. It was silly.

Still is, really.

"I…"

Regina shakes her head and Emma turns hers, brow furrowing. "Tell me later," Regina says, stroking the hand beneath her shirt, curling around it, leading it up between breasts. "I want you in many ways, Emma Swan," she admits, confident. "But right now, only one of those ways matters. You will make me wait no longer."

Emma bit her lip. Others would label their burgeoning relationship as unorthodox at best. They had a kid first, now they were going to have sex before a date or even a conversation about what this all means. Unorthodox or not, it is them— it is perfect.

"Well," she drawls, inching her way to a breast, the tip of her finger dipping into a snug lace cup. "How do you want me, Madam Mayor?"

Regina hums, bringing a hand up to snag her by the hair. "Oh my dear," she purrs, "why, every which way imaginable, of course."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so, updating something else didn't work out. Sorry, or not depending on who cares and who doesn't.
> 
> A few things about this; 1) I didn't plan on ending it where I do but I realized it's already 1K longer than the first chapter and 2) I want to change their location which means, 3) there will be one more chapter, at least.
> 
> Comments would be good. Threats of violence if I don't hurry up with the next chapter or update one of my plot-oriented stories would be less good, but well-deserved.
> 
> Enjoy, hopefully.

They're kissing. If she could do anything besides moan and demand more and more of Emma's hot mouth, Regina would sob through sheer joy that it's _finally_ happening. It was like a switch had flipped the moment those words left her mouth and Emma was spinning her around, pushing her up against the counter, and pressing that sexy body into her.

And _gods_ , does it feel good.

"Emma," she gasps, gripping her shirt, ready to tear it off. Her core aches, her nipples are stiff. She needs Emma naked and on top of her— inside of her. "Bed."

The word barely leaves her lips before she's squealing into that mouth, picked up as if she weighed no more than a sack of potatoes as Emma resumes their kiss. It isn't until her back is up against the bars, Emma's stomach firmly at home between her thighs that her surprise dissipates and she realizes just how much of a turn on Emma being able to carry her is.

Emma tries to pull away, to fumble with her keys and try to open the door to the cell but Regina refuses to give up that mouth. She waves her hand, her magic dumping them on the bed inside the cell, moaning wantonly as Emma's weight pins her to the bed.

Their kiss rumbles with Emma's chuckle but it doesn't stop. If anything, it only grows more intense and that, in turn, has Regina growing wetter. She has fantasized about this day more than she'd like to admit. She knows exactly what she wants, how she wants it, and how Emma will give it to her over and over, and over again.

Her imagination can't compare though, and it doesn't. Emma kisses like they have all the time in the world. It's languid— slow, like there is nothing she wants more than to stay here and savour the feel of her, tongue sweeping into her mouth, tasting her.

Their pleasure spills from the kiss in quiet gasps for breath and the heady, drawn out moans they coax from each other's throats with lips, tongue and teeth.

When the need for more becomes too much and they break apart, they're both panting, lips swollen. Emma rises, sits back on her knees, smirking as her gaze drifts to Regina's hand fisting in the horribly scratchy blanket beneath them. Regina wants to reach out but she wants Emma naked before she brings her back, to truly feel her without the barriers between them.

Breath evening, she lifts up on to her elbows wearing a smirk of her own, brow cocked. "Well?"

Emma mirrors her expression. "Well," she repeats, teasing. "Well, what, Madam Mayor? Is there something else you wanted?"

Regina growls, surging upwards. She winds her arms around Emma's neck and plunges her hands into that thick, curly blonde mane as Emma chuckles throatily. "You know damn well what I want," she husks, nipping at a pale lower lip. "Do not test me, Sheriff."

"I wouldn't dare," Emma murmurs, smiling as she leans in, lips soft against her mouth.

Regina sighs and shifts until she's straddling Emma's thighs. She wraps her legs around Emma's waist and hands grip her hips momentarily before they fall away, coming between them, finding their way beneath her shirt. Emma caresses her body; hips, stomach, back.

Fingers move to her sides, tickling slightly as they make their way up to her chest. Emma palms her breasts and she moans, not only at the warmth of those hands but the cotton of Emma's shirt brushing against her bare stomach.

Emma squeezes gently and Regina moans again, pulling back. Emma releases her reluctantly, dragging the hands back down. She slides them out from beneath her blouse, grabbing the hem before it can drop back to her waist. Regina raises her arms, grinning, and Emma tugs the blouse up over her head.

Lowering her arms, her eyes zero in on Emma's lower lip trapped between teeth, a shiver running down her spine as a finger trails up along her stomach and hooks the front of her bra. "You are gorgeous," Emma breathes, undoing the clasp as she leans forward and begins peppering kisses all down her throat.

Placing a hand against her chest, Regina gently pushes her back. Much as she wants that mouth on her as soon as possible, Emma has yet to give her what she truly wants.

Emma huffs but the small smile she wears belays any irritation and in one smooth move, her tank flutters to the floor of the cell, her bra not far behind. Regina hums at the sight but she is distracted from being able to truly appreciate it and arches her back as a palm returns to her breast, and an arm circles her waist.

As Emma guides her back to the mattress and follows her down, she barely manages to stifle her whimper.

With all that flesh now available, just waiting for her, she doesn't know where to start. Fortunately, Emma doesn't appear to share her dilemma and a mouth latch on to her pulse, one hand kneading her breast while a tongue plays at her neck, lips sucking almost hard enough to mark.

The idea of Emma marking her makes her slick, wet heat coalescing on her inner thighs. The smallest shift dampens her slacks, reminding her that some of their clothes still remain.

With a throated moan, she husks, "Emma."

Her only response is a vibrating, "Mmm," against her neck.

"Take off the re…" She doesn't get to finish as the hand darts from her breast down to her waist.

Nimble fingers loosening the button on her trousers with the skill of someone who's done this more than a few times before, she tries to ignore the sliver of jealousy that accompanies the thought and teases, "Who knew the Sheriff had such talented hands?"

"I've dreamt about this often enough," Emma says, unwittingly easing her mind at the same time she eases her zip down. Regina bites her lip and inwardly chides herself for assuming while Emma kisses her jaw, oblivious but no less sweet. "I'm going to need to get up, your royal sexiness."

It's then she notices how hard she's clutching Emma to her and grins. It hadn't occurred to her that they would need to separate again for Emma to undress them.

She is not a fan of the realization, at all.

"I have a better idea," she purrs, thighs returning to their new home around Emma's waist. She flicks her wrist, a moan erupting from her throat as the rest of their clothes disappear and Emma immediately grinds her stomach into her.

"You were right," she says, those beautiful green eyes dancing with mirth. "This _was_ a better idea."

Hum-slash-moaning, Regina releases her shoulders and trails her hands down Emma's back, clutching at her ass. She encourages her to keep moving and Emma doesn't disappoint. She brings them together again with lips, stealing what precious oxygen Regina has left as the pressure between her thighs increases and Emma starts to roll her hips.

The absolute relief of _yes_ and _finally_ is enough to have her head spinning. The sheer pleasure Emma can bring to her with the smallest amount of effort is a wonderful feeling, and one she doesn't intend to let go of.

Ever.

"Emma," she mutters against her mouth, patience no longer endless. "We have all the time in the world for your nonsense." She wants what those gazes have promised her for years now. "Fuck me, damn it."

 

.

.

.

 

Emma laughs, loving this side of her much in the same way she can't help but love every other side of Regina. She's smiling as she settles on her side, their fit on the small cot like this tight but she wants to watch— to see and hear every little gasp, every little moan she intends to coax from kiss-swollen lips. She wants to take her pleasure in the small furrow that creases Regina's forehead, in the knowledge that the mere removal of her body from on top of the woman is enough to bring back that ire she'd fallen so deeply in love with in the beginning.

Resting a hand on Regina's stomach and her chin on a shoulder, she grins. "Relax," she whispers, nose and lips brushing a heated cheek as she slowly guides her fingers down to where Regina clearly wants her most. "I promise I'll fuck you as hard and as fast as you like."

Lids fluttering, a tongue darts from between dark, plump lips. Emma watches it, riveted as it slowly traces from one corner of that mouth to the next. It's seductive—meant to goad her into rushing this and she knows it, but still…

Still, she lurches forward, pressing up on one hand as the other slips between warm thighs into moist heat. She captures that tongue before it can disappear again, teasing it further from the mouth and into her own.

The moan she gets in return is worth more than the loss of what minor control she'd had to begin with. Regina knows what works and Emma won't begrudge her using it to her advantage, not when it warms her from the inside out.

A hand threads through her hair with the thought, and then she's wincing, tugged from the mouth against her will. She thinks she's somehow angered Regina but when she actually looks, there's a smile on that face and instead of racing with fear her heart briefly stops entirely.

The sudden burst of laughter surprises and confuses her but not enough to stop and question it when she's brought back down to those lips, the kiss just as brief as the mild heart attack she may have experienced only seconds before it.

"Wh—"

"Stop being romantic," Regina croaks, interrupting her question. Emma frowns down at her. "I can feel the sentimentality oozing from you." Again, Regina kisses her, distracting her from the words enough that she can't protest but she begins to understand. "I want that hot, hard and sweaty sex I see in your eyes when you look at me and don't think I notice."

Her lips part to question how Regina can possibly know what she's thinking in those moments but Regina's mouth— _fuck_.

If not ever being able to speak again is the price for those kisses, then screw it; she'll be the greatest mime who ever lived.

"Fuck me, Emma," Regina breathes into her mouth, words interspersed with more kisses, quick and wet, and messy as hell but wanted and _needed_ all the same. "Take me like I know you want to." As if to punctuate her point, she spreads her legs even more and raises her hips, forcing Emma's fingers into her as she adds, "There will be time for slow later, my love."

And how can she resist?

With the clenching heat around her fingers combined with that endearment, the answer is obvious; she can't.

So she doesn't.

Flexing her fingers, Emma presses her mouth to a shoulder and begins to thrust, gaze fixed to that perfect face. She expects another moan but what she gets is even better, the quietly surprised "oh" that sounds eerily curse-like in its delivery.

She grins. "Is this what you want," she asks, the question rhetorical as she increases the pace. All Regina can do is writhe, lips parted in answer but without sound to voice it, vocal cords too preoccupied by pleasure to even consider anything else. "Does my Queen need a nice, hard pounding from her Sheriff?"

The moan rips from Regina then and Emma's grin widens. She drives her fingers deeper and faster with every thrust, and it isn't long before her wrist begins to ache in protest, but she ignores it.

If this is what Regina wants, then it's what Regina will get.

"Is this what you think about when I catch you staring at my hands?"

She'd found it a little odd at first, but the first and only time she'd worked up the courage to ask Regina what had her staring off into 'space' and she'd suddenly understood. Regina had turned beet red and rambled some nonsense about grocery lists. She'd have laughed at the time if Regina's pupils hadn't been so dark and telling.

"Do you daydream of me ravaging your tight, hot cunt with my hands?" Regina gasps, a full-bodied shudder wracking her frame. Emma hums, delighted. She isn't much one for dirty talk, but she'd had a hunch and run with it. "What about my mouth? Do you think about that too? Do you wonder how it might feel— to have my tongue buried deep inside of you?"

One long, loud groan of, "Fuck," sets her alight and she moans, sympathetic as she entwines their legs and starts to rock against a thigh, spreading her own slick heat over flesh while Regina's coats her hand.

Nails digging into her hip in encouragement, she moans before putting her mouth to better use. She molds her lips to warm, olive flesh and swirls her tongue over a shoulder, sucking flesh into her mouth, grazing it with teeth; a preview to all the things she _will_ do between those thighs before the spell keeping them trapped ends.

Regina's breath hitches no sooner than the thought passes. Emma curls her fingers, finding ridged flesh, thumb burrowing between folds in search of the hard little nub. Regina snaps, Emma's name an explosive moan that comes a split-second before Emma bites down, hips grinding harder— faster against her thigh as she chases her own release.

She should have known better.

Regina's recovery time is impressive though, she thinks. She isn't entirely sure how Regina manages to extract her hand without hurting either of them but one minute she's close to coming, and the next she's on her back with Regina glaring down at her as if she'd committed some unforgivable crime.

When Regina growls her very possessive, "Mine," she thinks that maybe she has and bites the inside of her cheek to prevent her grin from spreading.

Eyes wandering from that gorgeous, angry expression down to Regina's breasts, she stifles a whine in realization she hadn't paid them even the slightest attention until that moment.

Whatever else it is they do today, she decides she needs to fix that, and soon.

"Yours," she agrees, reasoning that the sooner she acquiesces, the sooner Regina will let her come, and the sooner she'll have her lips and tongue wrapped around a hard, dusky nipple.

"Mine," Regina repeats, voice soft.

Unlike her, Regina doesn't skip ahead and when she bows her head to take a nipple into her mouth, Emma hums, arching her back as she threads fingers through Regina's hair. She'd never really enjoyed all the attention previous lovers had given to her breasts, but the fact that with Regina she feels differently doesn't surprise her in the least.

The sensation of soft suckling interspersed with the rough swipes of her tongue has Emma on the brink in no time.

When Regina moves on, she almost growls but again, it doesn't surprise her. She'd be lying if she said she'd prefer the quick, hard fuck that Regina wanted. She'd always imagined their first time would be slow, once they got over their fears and actually admitted to this thing between them.

That Regina is giving her what she wants without even needing to ask has warmth of another kind spreading through her as she relaxes and closes her eyes, enjoying the feel of soft lips and hot tongue painting her skin.

The sharp sting of teeth just above her bellybutton has her gasping, eyes flying open and snapping down. Regina stares back and Emma reads the look in her gaze clearly; this isn't about what she wants. This is still about Regina, what she wants— what Emma is going to get regardless.

Emma allows the grin this time, amused but more than content with the silent reprimand. Who is she to shatter such a pleasurable delusion?

A few more seconds pass before Regina lets go, soothing the bite with her tongue before she moves lower, leaving a small trail of hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses in her wake.

No more than an inch from her sex, Regina pauses and Emma holds her breath. Their eyes meet for the second time, Regina's much darker gaze disappearing behind lids as she draws in a deep, long breath, and groans even more deeply.

The sound is unlike anything Emma has heard from Regina before and it sends a wave of heat rocketing through her.

"Regina…"

It's a plea and Regina knows it as the corner of her mouth twitches with a smile. Eyes still closed, she leans in, tongue darting out to take a quick swipe of Emma's folds. Emma bucks, simultaneous moans falling from respective lips, one ripped from her throat while the other reverberates through her.

That all too brief touch has her right on the edge.

"Do you want to come in my mouth, Em-ma?"

The way Regina says her name— the gravelly rasp of her voice and the heat of her breath has Emma wanting to scream.

Another swipe and rather a scream, she cries out when instead of retreating, Regina finds her clit with ease and begins to lap at it with her tongue.

Emma's hips move of their own accord before hands clamp down on her thighs and Regina holds her down, giving her clit one last flick before she delves deeper into folds, burying her face in Emma's pussy, tongue thrusting into her.

In the next instant, her whole body is shaking, the pleasure spilling from her lips just as it spills hotly from her cunt and into Regina's waiting mouth. Regina moans against her but she doesn't stop with just the one and she keeps going.

Fingers replace the tongue and then she's crawling up to Emma's mouth, seizing her lips in a kiss that blows the rest of them away. Emma can taste herself and before she even realizes it, she's wrapping her arms and legs around Regina's shoulders and waist, pinning her arm between them as she pulls her down.

A chuckle vibrates against her mouth before Regina shifts, driving her hips into the back of her hand. With little room to maneuver, Emma can barely do more than moan and _think_ about keeping up with the pace but she doesn't _care_. She tightens her hold and surrenders to Regina, to the intensity of being fucked senseless as another release threatens to overwhelm her.

"Mmm," Regina hums, leaving her mouth to trace her jaw with lips and tongue, leaving Emma free to pant and moan to her heart's content. "You taste di-vine, Sheriff."

On the next thrust, Regina grinds her palm into Emma's clit as teeth grip the lobe of her ear. Emma's eyes roll to the back of her head. She's barely cognitive enough to register Regina's next words, whispered tauntingly in to her ear.

"Your cunt will be gracing my mouth…" Regina pauses to trace her lobe with the tip of her tongue, then breathes, "… often, and for a very—" more teeth. "— very long time."

When a third finger joins the first two, it is that along with those words repeating themselves over in her mind that sends Emma hurtling over the edge for the second time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, that took way too long. I realized when I was almost at the end of chapter that it was turning out like a chapter I previously wrote in Homecoming. Others might not have noticed, but I did and that just wasn't good, so I had to scrap most of it and start over. 
> 
> Sorry for the wait. There's another chapter. I know, I know. Last one. Promise.

When Emma's phone rings, Regina disentangles herself from around her and makes her way to the small workout room at the back of the station. As much as she loved cuddling with Emma after their little sex marathon, she can only go so long feeling like she needs a shower before it becomes the sole focus of her attention, and in the arms of the woman she loves, the two of them naked; the inability to focus on _that_ is an absolute crying shame.

Turning the shower on, she waits a few minutes for it to heat up before she slips beneath the warm stream. She tips her head back, eyes closing as she relives the previous hours. Not a single inch of her body had escaped Emma's attention. She aches pleasantly with the reminder of those skilled hands and the talented little tongue that worked her up, repeatedly and thoroughly.

Reaching for the soap, she sighs as she turns and begins to lather her body, wishing she'd had the patience to wait for Emma to finish her call, then maybe she would be the one doing this for her.

The thought causes a throb between her legs as the desire she thought sated flickers back to life. Hearing the door to the bathroom squeak open not a moment later, she breathes a sigh of relief and waits for Emma to find her stall.

"Need a hand… or mouth?"

"That would be nice." Opening her eyes, she places the soap back where she found it, then turns her head and rakes her gaze down Emma's sinfully gorgeous body before she reaches out and pulls her in, demanding, "On your knees, Sheriff."

Holding her stare, Emma lowers herself to the ground. Regina bites her lip, nostrils flaring as she gazes down on her, chest already heaving in anticipation. "Slowly," she warns, knowing she'll still be far too sensitive for anything more than the tender ministrations Emma seems to favour.

Emma nods as she leans in, hands gliding up along the backs of her thighs. Regina twitches, hoping, then sighing her approval when they reach her ass and firmly grip her cheeks. She tangles a hand in Emma's hair and guides her mouth to where she wants her, moaning as a tongue sweeps between her folds to caress her slit.

She won't be having any more of the earth-shattering orgasms she's become accustomed to these past 36 hours, but the slow, gentle strokes serve to ease her need at least. That Emma just so happens to be enjoying herself down there –if the little hums against her sex are any indication– Regina considers a bonus.

As her body grows warmer, her thighs grow slicker and Emma's strokes begin to slow even further. Sighing, she pulls lightly at Emma's hair and groans as two fingers swiftly enter her before Emma kisses a path up her stomach, leaving a warm, wet trail in her wake that is soon washed away by the water continuing to spill over them.

Emma pauses only briefly at her chest, taking the time to suck on each of her nipples but no more before she continues the ascent up her neck and over her chin to her lips. Regina immediately deepens the kiss, thrusting a tongue into her mouth as Emma tugs one of her legs up over a hip and begins to fuck her, deep and hard, just the way she likes.

Her release comes sooner than she expects. Once Emma settles on the perfect rhythm, the warm ebb in the pit of her stomach expands quickly and then she's breaking their kiss with a gasp, head thrown back as her body arches and she comes all over Emma's hand.

Slowing, Emma kisses her anywhere and everywhere she can; her collarbones, her throat, her jaw and cheeks. When Regina tips forward and burrows into her neck, Emma carefully removes her fingers before lowering her leg and wrapping around her, happily taking all of her weight while she recovers.

As her strength begins to return and the fog of pleasure lifts from her mind, she registers the hands. Wet and slippery with soap, they glide from the backs of her thigh, up over the cheeks of her ass and in between. She groans into Emma's neck.

"You like that?"

"Mmm," she hums, shifting a leg to give Emma more room as fingers slide through her slit to the pulsing bundle of nerves, and back again. "Love your hands."

Emma chuckles. "I can tell," she murmurs and kisses the side of her head before she retracts said hands and turns her around.

Regina almost protests, but then there are breasts against her back and those hands are stroking from hips to chest, cupping and kneading, and cleansing her in the most delightful fashion imaginable, and she groans again as warm, soft lips descend on her shoulder.

"You keep that up and I won't be able to return the favour." Feeling the mouth curve against her skin, she turns her head and nuzzles a cheek. "You're going to be the death of me, Emma Swan."

Humming, Emma raises her head and kisses her on the lips before she promises, "It's going to be one hell of a satisfying afterlife."

Regina smirks, dismissing the rather morbid implication, and kisses her back, agreeing, "Indeed."

 

 

Two more orgasms and a semi-productive shower later, they return to the main office in time for Emma's phone to ring once more. Regina rolls her eyes and heads for the kitchen nook, needing copious amounts of coffee after her wonderfully satisfying ravishing.

Coffees in hand, she wanders into Emma's office to overhear, "Mom, I told you already; it's none of your business."

She sighs. She has a fairly good idea of what exactly Emma thinks isn't Snow's business. She agrees but she also knows just how stubborn Snow can be and she has no intention of spending the rest of the night listening to Emma argue with her.

"Hang up."

"Hold on," Emma says into the receiver before pressing the phone to her shoulder. "I can't just hang up on her, Regina."

"No?"

"No," she repeats.

Regina shrugs. "Very well," she says, setting the coffees down on the desk before snatching the phone from her. Emma glares at her, but Regina ignores it and asks, "Is your problem telling your mother a result of wanting your privacy, or because you'd rather I be your dirty little secret?"

"What?" At her deadpan stare, Emma sighs and admits, "Privacy."

Regina nods. She wasn't opposed to being Emma's dirty little secret but knowing Emma won't mind when people eventually find out has her smiling as she raises the phone to her ear.

"Snow, dear…" She tilts her head, letting the woman ramble on the other end, patient as can be before she says, "Yes, trapping Emma and I together _was_ a wonderful idea… especially now that I know what she looks like naked."

Emma takes a swipe at her. She dodges the hand and takes a step back with a chuckle. "Oh no, she's perfectly fine. She might be a little sore… one moment, Snow." She lowers the phone, free hand against Emma's chest. "Would you stop that?"

Emma huffs but her attempts to take the phone from her stop. "Does wanting my privacy mean nothing to you?"

"On the contrary," Regina assures, trailing the hand down between her breasts. "Your privacy means the world to me, and I will respect your desire for such in every matter _but_ this one. Your mother is a busybody, however, who will not and likely never will. I don't know about you, but I would much rather spend the night fucking your brains out than listening to you attempt to change the woman who proves time and again the impossibility of such an endeavor."

Throat bobbing with her swallow, Emma stares at her, wide-eyed. Regina smiles sweetly, caressing her way up from Emma's chest to her cheek and patting it fondly. She presses the phone back to her ear. "Did you get all that, dear?"

At the silence on the other end, she smirks and hangs up, tossing the phone onto the desk. Emma grabs her, pulling her close and bringing their heads together, her smile faint but there when she asks, "Was that really necessary?"

"No, but it was highly amusing," Regina admits. "Besides, you said I couldn't kill her, you said nothing about torture."

"True," Emma concedes before seemingly forgetting about her mother altogether. She peers down into the small space between them and breathes, "Fuck, you're hot."

Regina grins. "Thank you." She captures the hand about to cup her sex and guides it back to her hip. "Loathe as I am to admit such a thing, I'm not ready for more yet."

Emma pouts. "But you've had like five whole _minutes_ ," she whines playfully. Quicker than Regina can blink, the hands are back on her ass and forcing their bodies impossibly close while Emma adopts a mock serious expression and says, "And I have the patience of a two year old."

"The temperament too," Regina teases before she jerks, laughing loudly when Emma pinches her ass in reprimand. Mock threatening, she narrows her eyes and warns, "Don't start what I can't finish, Miss Swan."

"What about starting what I can finish?" She counters, not even bothering to wait for a response before she claims her mouth and starts backing up.

With a groan, Regina waves her hand, sending the coffee elsewhere before sinking into the kiss. She really would like some caffeine but if the alternative is having Emma in her mouth, then she's more than willing to make do for the time being.

"Is this how it's going to be from now on?" She murmurs against her lips once they stop, pulling back. She presses a hand between Emma's breasts and pushes her down on to the desk. "Am I going to have to fuck you into a coma before you allow me to rest?"

"Not all the time," Emma replies as Regina sinks to her knees and spreads her legs. Emma threads a hand in her hair and with a breathy little sigh as Regina's tongue strokes between her folds, she adds, "Just most of it."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mention of MC but it's not in the written sex, so those of you who don't enjoy it won't need to skip anything. Just thought you might appreciate the warning in case me not writing it isn't good enough.

Emma awakens to the soft tap of fingers in the crook between her neck and shoulder, and the warm breath of a quiet sigh across her collarbone. Generally, she hates being woken up but when she turns her head and sees Regina watching her with a small smile on her lips, she decides she wouldn't mind waking to this every morning.

"Hi."

The smile grows. "Hi," Regina replies before rising up and leaning over her. Staring down at Emma with a warm, fond look in her eyes, she informs, "You snore in your sleep."

Emma shrugs. She knows, why deny it? "I had a girlfriend once who'd wake me up in the middle of the night because she couldn't fall asleep if I already had."

Brow furrowing, Regina drawls, "I'll assume that's why you broke up with her."

Emma's mouth twitches. It might have been one of the reasons, but there were plenty of others. She had a list at the time. "It stuck out," she admits, "But it wasn't the worst of her crimes."

The way she says it must give something away because the next thing she knows is that Regina has been up awhile; the taste of coffee on her lips and tongue. Emma moans into the kiss, savouring every second of it before it ends, and then pouting because it does. She could, quite happily, spend the rest of her life kissing Regina, she's certain.

"I'm hungry."

Needing a minute to process the change of topic, she shakes her head after a moment, dispelling the fog of sleep as best she can. They don't exactly have access to fine cuisine given their predicament, but she supposes she'll be able to scrounge something up to satisfy Regina until they can finally get out of here. She tries to sit up in her bid to feed the woman she loves but in that same instant, she realizes not only is Regina making it impossible by not moving, she also happens to be looking at her in a way that makes Emma think she might be missing a joke of some kind- the kind of which she is the butt of.

"What?"

Snorting, Regina kisses her again and the pressure of it is enough to coax her back into lying down. It's even shorter than the first and as Emma resumes her pouting up at the ceiling, those lips making their way down her throat, between her breasts, and down, down down, it finally clicks.

It was exactly the kind of thing she would have said.

"Oh my god," she groans and throws an arm over her eyes, disbelieving, hips twitching with the need to thrust at the first touch of a tongue on her clit.

"Indeed." She raises the arm just enough to peer down at Regina, who smirks up at her from between her thighs. "You're lucky you're cute."

Cheeks warm, Emma rolls her eyes and lets the arm drop, intent on ignoring Regina's deep, throaty laughter. She is, unsurprisingly, much less inclined to ignore the vibrations of it, however, when Regina sucks on the insides of her thighs.

"I forgive you." Lips lightly ghosting her sex, Regina teases her folds and murmurs, "You did just wake up."

"Than-" Her breath hitches and her body melts, sarcasm vanishing with a moan as Regina descends on her with a hot, wet mouth and a ravenous hunger that just might be enough to kill her. "Fuck."

Regina grabs hold of her thighs and pins her to the cot. Emma squirms against her grip as the desire to thrust becomes even more overwhelming. She definitely wouldn't mind waking up to this every morning. The way Regina goes down on her is intense and wonderful; the little flicker and twist of a tongue over her clit , the way a lower lip drags along her slit, following the tongue as Regina gathers as much of her wetness as possible.

Every second Regina is between her legs is a lesson in restraint. If it were up to her body, she'd come the moment Regina so much as touches her.

"Mine."

Emma squeezes her eyes shut, the posessive growl sending a rush of heat through her. She spreads herself wider and reaches down, accepting and confirming the claim without a single word leaving her lips as she tangles her fingers in silken strands and guides Regina back to her cunt.

Regina moans against her and she mirrors the sound moments later when that mouth practically engulfs her entirely, sucking as much of her between lips, tongue pushing between folds, probing the tight ring of her entrance- teasing, torturing- thrusting. Gasping, Emma bucks and arches her back as much as Regina's grip on her will allow which, granted, isn't a whole lot but it's encouragement and if she has learned anything in the last- however many hours it's been- it's that Regina revels in the way she responds, and rewards her every time.

This time is no different, and as Regina releases one of her thighs, Emma drapes the leg over her back, caressing the dip of her spine with a heel. Regina releases her cunt from her mouth, humming her own pleasure as she brings the hand between Emma's thighs and slides into her, thrusting deep, and purring when Emma cries out.

"Always so tight," Regina murmurs, chest rumbling with approval. "So wet- I can't wait to feel you wrapped around me."

Emma twitches and opens her eyes, glancing down at her. Throat hoarse, she rasps, "I am wrapped around you."

Circling her clit with the tip of her tongue, Regina hums, "That you are." She curls her fingers and replaces the tongue with a thumb, pressing down on the bundle of nerves before she clarifies, "But I was referring to my cock."

Her release hits as soon as the word leaves Regina's mouth, body stiff for barely more than a second before her orgasm slams into her and all she can do is hold on, riding wave after wave as one hand clutches Regina's head and the other fists the blanket beneath them, fingers gripping so hard they quickly begin to ache.

Oblivious, she has no idea how much time passes before the shudders finally cease but the moment she slumps back to the cot, Regina is up and on top of her, grinning down at her as she says, "You, my swan, are the most delightfully tasty breakfast I've ever had."

A snort catches in the back of Emma's throat. "Clearly, you've never tasted yourself."

"Oh I have," Regina counters, nipping at her lower lip. "Many, many times," she purrs, "which makes me an excellent judge and trust me; I do not compare in the slightest."

The words conjures a few of her more favourite fantasies to mind and Emma swallows thickly. The thought of Regina masturbating has always been a surefire way to arouse her. As someone who has tasted them both also, though, she'd be remiss not to argue and says, "I disagree."

Regina smirks. "You have many bad habits I will have to learn to tolerate," she teases before capturing her mouth in a firm, but sweet kiss.

Unwilling to break it, Emma waits for its natural end, hands roaming the naked expanse of Regina's back as she moans into her mouth. When it eventually does, she mentions breathlessly, "I have a lot of good habits to make up for those."

"Oh yes?" Regina nuzzles her jawline, nose grazing skin until she feels the soft mouth at her lobe. Emma shivers at the flicker of a tongue, and the warm breath of the question purred into her ear, "And what might those be?"

Reaching down to palm her ass, Emma tilts her head to the side and brushes her lips over Regina's cheek before she says, "Why don't you conjure me that cock and let me show you?"

* * *

  
When the spell breaks, neither of them notice, caught up in one another as they are. It isn't until Snow stumbles through the door, her shriek filling the room, that they even consider getting out of bed. Unlike Emma, Regina doesn't get up with any sort of haste and decides, instead, to watch her dress.

At least until Emma glares at her, and even then- well. "What? She's not my mother." Scowling, Emma forgoes the boy shorts in favour of throwing them at her. Regina is delighted and it shows in the shameless way she breathes in the scent clinging to the material before she plucks them away from her face.

Emma is staring at her, the expression a familiar combination of longing annoyance. Regina grins. "I'm coming," she drawls playfully, flicking her wrist as she sits up, fully clothed.

With a huff, Emma storms from the cell and Regina rolls her eyes before following at a leisurely pace. Snow spins on them the moment they make it outside. "I wanted you to talk, Regina, not- not that!"

She snorts. "It's called multi-tasking, dear."

Snow's face twists and Emma swats her arm, which Regina thinks is entirely unnecessary so when Emma approaches her mother, hands raised in an attempt to calm the situation (the idiot), she drawls, "Your daughter has a filthy mouth, by the way."

Gaping, Emma quickly turns to face her. "Regina!"

Feigning distraction with her nails, Regina blinks innocently back at her. "Hmm?" As Emma sputters in search of a response, she decides to change the subject and questions, "You're coming for dinner, yes?"

"Uh."

Taking the continued gaping and sputtering as an affirmative, Regina glances over at Snow. "You'll take Henry for the night?"

Her eyes widen comically. "Oh my god," she groans, "wasn't two days enough?"

Regina simply stares, somehow both incredulous and not. After four years, Snow thinking two days is enough really shouldn't be the surprise her mind, briefly, took it as. She shakes her head, turning her attention back to Emma. "Six o'clock, my love; don't be late."

Her eardrums threaten to burst when Snow squeals. "Gah. Fuck. Mom!"

Gone is the disturbed and vaguely disgusted expression Snow has warn since walking in on them, replaced with a smile that looks to Regina like it might actually hurt were it to grow any wider. "Sorry honey," she gushes, practically bouncing on the spot. "I'm just so happy!"

"I preferred it when you were traumatized," Emma mumbles.

Hearing her, Regina takes the opportunity to get revenge for her poor, still ringing ears. "Snow?"

Blinking owlishly, Snow beams after a moment. "Yes, Regina?"

"Thank you."

Her brow furrows in confusion. "For what?"

"Giving birth," Regina replies, allowing the words to sink in before she gives a sly grin and adds, "Your daughter is delicious."

Satisfied with the paling of her face, she chances a glance at Emma who appears to be trying to hold in her laughter. Seeing she has her attention, Emma chuckles before bringing their heads together with a murmured, "I love you."

Regina smiles. "And I you, dearest."

If Snow happens to squeal again when they kiss, neither pay her any mind.


End file.
